Free Killer Blonde by Laura Levine

the second time in two days, I was tempted to peek in a forbidden door to see who SueEllen was talking to. But this time, Sensible Me won out. The prospect of being spotted by SueEllen was too scary to risk. I settled for eavesdropping.
    “You’re not going to tell people about it, are you?” the man pleaded.
    “Of course I am,” SueEllen said, breezily.
    “But you’ll ruin my career,” the man said, his voice rising a full octave with fear.
    “You think I care about your career now? After what I know?”
    “I swear, SueEllen. It won’t happen again.”
    “Forget it, Eduardo.” Okay, so now I knew who she was talking to. “You’re history in this town. You’ll be lucky to get a job drawing caricatures on the Santa Monica Pier.”
    Then I heard the clack of her heels on the wood floor.
    “SueEllen, wait! Don’t go.”
    Damn. She was on her way out the door, and I was standing there in full view, still clutching my lamb chop bones. I looked around for a place to hide. Nothing. Nada. Not a bush in sight. Just a few potted palms, dotted among the deck chairs. I dashed behind one of them, praying that SueEllen wouldn’t spot me. It wouldn’t have been hard to do. It was like trying to hide behind a phone pole. I would’ve given anything at that moment to be one of SueEllen’s ninety-eight-pound bulimic buddies.
    SueEllen came sailing out the door, looking a lot like a Sunset Boulevard dominatrix in her black leather ensemble. Thankfully, she didn’t even glance my way. A miserable Eduardo followed in her wake.
    “SueEllen! Please!” he called after her. “Can’t we talk this over?”
    But she kept on walking, ignoring him.
    He looked at her retreating figure, and raked his fingers through his hair so roughly I thought he’d yank it out. Then slowly he started trudging back to the party.
    I waited till he was gone and crept out from my hiding place. Then I tossed my lamb chop bones into one of the potted palms and headed back to the party, wondering exactly what kind of indiscretion Eduardo had committed.
     

    Dinner was served buffet style in the dining room. The dining table was laden with an impressive array of gourmet dishes handed down from Aunt Melanie and Julia Child. Needless to say, there wasn’t a plastic fork in sight. In fact, the sterling silver was so heavy, a person could get carpal tunnel syndrome just lifting it. Heidi and I stood on line together, and loaded our plates with crab cakes, veal marsala, and crispy roasted new potatoes.
    Heidi was just reaching for a roll when SueEllen crept up behind her.
    “Is that roll really necessary, darling?”
    Heidi looked her straight in the eye.
    “Yep,” she said, and tossed it onto her plate.
    Score one for Heidi.
    SueEllen seethed.
    “Whatever you say, hon.” Her smile was as sharp as a Ginsu knife.
    We all took our plates back into the living room and sat around in chummy clumps.
    The dinner dynamics were interesting, to put it mildly.
    Heidi and I nabbed seats on one of several overstuffed sofas. Brad sat across from us on a matching sofa, ignoring his food and glaring at SueEllen. Amber, sitting between Brad and Eduardo, was ignoring Brad and flirting with Eduardo. But Eduardo was oblivious to her charms, barely touching his food, and shooting imploring looks at SueEllen. SueEllen was perched on the arm of Hal’s chair, also ignoring her food, and rubbing her husband’s neck seductively. Perhaps she planned on being a faithful wife for a bit, to while away the time between lovers.
    I’m happy to report that Heidi seemed to be having a good time. SueEllen wouldn’t dare be her ugly self in front of all these people, some of whom were, no doubt, very influential in town. So, for the duration of the evening, Heidi was safe.
    At least, that’s what I thought. Until one of the guests, during a lull in the conversation, turned to me, and said, “And what do you do, Ms. Austen?”
    Before I could reply, SueEllen piped up: “Jaine’s